


Unsanitary

by Akaiba



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bottom McCoy, M/M, Rimming, Top Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaiba/pseuds/Akaiba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock wants to try something new but McCoy is a little hesitant right up until he isn't any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsanitary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elsian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsian/gifts).



> Gift for Elsian because she needed more Spones and I wanted to give her some.

"You want to do what?" 

"I believe you heard me perfectly well, Leonard." 

"That's just unsanitary." McCoy says, deadpan.

Spock fixes McCoy with a withering look. "You will bathe first." 

Like it shouldn't need saying, which McCoy supposes it doesn't but really this whole conversation is a little surreal. "What if I don't want to do this?" 

"Then you are fully able to say no. However I do believe you will enjoy it." Spock goes back to reading his data pad like they are talking about the god damn weather. McCoy sits there, staring at Spock's utterly calm and stoic face, fairly certain that the only explanation is one of two things. Either, upon entering their shared quarters, McCoy accidentally stepped into an alternate universe or Spock has been replaced with some clone or android that is trying to kill McCoy through sex. Spock looks up at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Would you like to bathe yourself now?” Spock suggests gently.

And that right there is about as eager as McCoy has ever seen Spock be for sex. It made for perhaps the only compelling argument in getting McCoy to even consider this. It isn't that Spock doesn't enjoy sex between them, McCoy knows he does, but right now there is an undercurrent of scientific curiosity paired with a desire to share something new with McCoy that the doctor finds he can't deny right away. Much as he wants to. “Right.” McCoy swallows hard. “I-I'll just... do that.” 

He stands stiffly and walks slowly to the bathroom, locking the door behind himself and staring at his reflection for a long moment. “Leonard McCoy,” He hisses at his own face, softly so Spock won't hear with his stupid vulcan hearing. “You are not going to let that little hobgoblin stick his tongue up your ass.” McCoy has to admit, he's done a lot of stupid things in his life- the life-threatening ones more common since he first met Jim Kirk- but this... this is just plain weird. It's not like he isn't aware that people do that sort of thing. He's been around the block a few times but he's never seen the appeal. 

That's not entirely true either. He can see the appeal, he's not an idiot. He's just not sure he wants to experience it. He doesn't think its for him. At all. He is a doctor, he knows how to keep everything clean and safe for them- not that Spock seems to need the advice- but he isn't sure he likes the idea of being touched like that. Like he's some sort of woman that Spock is going down on. He just thinks the whole things is going to be demeaning and unpleasant.

Sighing, he stands under the spray of the shower, doing this thoroughly and properly. McCoy takes his time, going slow and making sure he cleans himself, invasively, twice- just to be safe- before he gets out. Dripping onto the bathroom floor he stiffens and glares at his fogged over reflection, again. This is stupid. He doesn't feel comfortable and he is a grown man, he can say no and Spock won't put any pressure on him to do otherwise. They aren't children. Spock had even outright said he was requesting, not ordering. McCoy snorts at the thought, he'd like to see Spock order him to do anything, let alone this. 

He takes a deep, slow breath. Because he is right; they aren't children. It isn't like a bad experience in bed is going to kill their sex life and if this is something Spock really wants to try then McCoy wants to at least give it a go. He knows what he was getting into and if he doesn't like it then he can stop it and everything will be fine. 

He tugs his underwear back on, out of habitual modesty for the most part, and steps out of the bathroom into the bedroom. McCoy cocks his head at the empty bed, having expected the vulcan to be there waiting. Going back into the front room, grateful for Spock's need for a higher temperature so he is completely comfortable walking around almost naked, he sees Spock hasn't moved from the desk. “Spock...” He calls. “I... I cleaned up.” He hates the way this whole things feels; so planned and orchestrated. McCoy is a big advocate of safe-sex and all but he enjoys feverish, passionate tumbles. This feels like a performance and he can't feel up for anything like that. 

Spock watches him carefully before standing and going to stand before him, pressing two of his fingers to McCoy's in a soft vulcan kiss. There's enough room between them for McCoy to breathe but he can feel the heat from Spock's body like it's on him and he shudders. “You are tense. And apprehensive. You do not wish to do this.” 

McCoy jerks his hand away from Spock's and glares at him. “I told you not to do that.” He snaps. 

Spock's mouth quirks in a small sign of amusement. “I did not. I was reading you. It is currently very much open for me to see and I was interpreting your body language.” The vulcan gives him a serious look. His usual look for the most part but there's a hint of affection and understanding underneath it. “You do not have to agree to my wishes, Leonard.” 

McCoy shrugs, like this isn't totally weird to him, “You're not pressuring me, Spock. So quite acting like that's how I'm acting.” He folds his arms. “I said we'd try something you wanted so I'm doing it.” He really, really doesn't want this to end awkwardly. McCoy's never been fond of being treated like a woman- not that many people have tried, mind you- but he'd taken a long enough time coming around to his preference for letting Spock top. He isn't sure why this whole thing is such a big deal but it is. He's aware of the irrationality of that though and it helps him settle on the bed, tugging Spock into the room with him but leaving the vulcan standing. Spock follows him onto the bed almost immediately, however. 

Things start off slow and familiar, Spock is just kissing and touching him, all things he is happy to let himself get distracted by. Spock pushes a leg between McCoy's and grinds his thigh against the doctor's crotch. He uses the little gasp McCoy gives to deepen the kiss obscenely. Their tongues slide together, hot and heavy, both grunting and moaning into it as McCoy pulls up Spock's shirt and digs his hands into the bunching muscles on the vulcan's back. They break apart so McCoy can pull the shirt off Spock and hurl it across the room, grinning at the little frown-y eyebrows he gets. Spock pins him to the bed and attacks his neck in retaliation, nipping and sucking until McCoy's groaning hard, tugging a hand free to fist it in Spock's hair and mess up his perfect appearance. Spock moves down McCoy's chest, nipping a path until he reaches McCoy's cock and moves over it entirely. He kisses the inside of McCoy's thighs, pushing the doctor's legs wider as McCoy bucks in a wild demand to get Spock where he wants him. The vulcan pins him with one hand before letting him go and kneeling up, a dark look in his eyes. “Turn over.” 

McCoy wants to twist his face but he busies himself with doing as he is told, hiding his hesitation in the sheets as Spock pushes his way between his legs again. He puts two pillows underneath McCoy's hips and while this is a familiar position the hot breath on his thighs isn't. McCoy swallows hard as Spock's hands grip his thighs but he grunts out a sigh at the gentle kisses to his legs. Spock's hands hold him just enough to let him feel it as his lips move over McCoy's skin and ease him back to a relaxed state. Spock's hands move slowly up and grip the swell of McCoy's ass, kneading gently before pushing him open to Spock's attentions. A little flick of a tongue presses to the skin between his balls and his cock, making him jerk and gasp. Spock moves to his balls, sucking them and rolling them in his mouth before suddenly there is a hot, wet press of his tongue over McCoy's hole and he buries his face into the sheets. He feels his face flush instantly, the humiliation of being pressed so open and utterly at the whim of whatever Spock wants to do burns low in his stomach and races over his skin. There's no way Spock's little touch-telepathy hasn't picked that up and McCoy has long given up on Spock not doing that in bed when so much of their skin touches like this. Spock draws back but McCoy can still feel hot breath on his rear and he shudders. 

“You think this is a humiliation for you?” Spock asks softly, his voice loud in the stillness of their bedroom. “I would not consider it such.” 

McCoy can't believe that the Vulcan wants to talk about this now, when McCoy's got his ass in the air and Spock's spreading him open like a five-credit bar slut. “Well what would you call it then?” He snaps, muffled by the sheets but he really wants Spock to just get on with it. 

“I would call it worshipping you.” Spock says simply before swiping his tongue over McCoy's hole again. The doctor makes a low noise, neither or pleasure nor displeasure, and tightens his hands in the sheets. “Were this a humiliating act at all, which I do not believe it is in this context at all, would it not be for me?” He presses his tongue just a little over the tense flesh, letting McCoy feel it before drawing back and kneading the flesh still clasped in his palms. “I do not feel humiliated, however. I feel like I am using every part of my body to bring you pleasure.”

“It feels weird.” Is all McCoy can say to that and Spock has apparently deemed the conversation not worth continuing as he applies himself more fully to lapping at the tense circle of skin beneath his tongue. 

Much as McCoy had figured, there is a building level of pleasure working up his spine. Each press of Spock's tongue is hot and teasing at the edge of his hole, not doing more than caress it and put pressure against it- not pressing in. It's a slow process but, against his will, McCoy finds himself making soft noises at each swipe of Spock's tongue. He can just picture the smug vulcan's face but suddenly Spock's tongue is increasing the pressure on his hole, pushing hard and insistent until McCoy's body gives and there's a hot, wet slide of flesh into him. McCoy cries out sharply. He shudders as Spock probes as deep as he can press his tongue, flicking teasingly, almost against his prostate before withdrawing and just as McCoy's readying himself for the loss of the feeling Spock's pushing back in again. Spock's tongue doesn't reach deep enough to do more than tease him, not pressing where the doctor really wants him. McCoy makes a choked noise and buries his face in the sheets again as Spock literally fucks him with his tongue. His hands push McCoy wider, as wide as he can go, pushing his legs further apart and pressing his face as close as he can. McCoy has to admire the dexterity the vulcan has with his tongue even as it tears him apart with each filthy push and slide. His fingers dig into the sheets and his mouth spills a litany of whiny cries he will deny until his dying day, pressing back for more as Spock's grip on him suddenly becomes necessary to hold him still.

Spock keeps him like that, a steady hard thrusting of his tongue, for long enough that McCoy's shaking with how close he is. He wonders if Spock is going to make him come like this and as soon as he thinks it- which no doubt Spock has overheard from their closeness- Spock's pace picks up. The vulcan moans into him and McCoy shudders, jerking hard as Spock's tongue becomes less rhythmic. One of the hands pinning him down moves to slide a finger in alongside Spock's tongue and it presses roughly against his prostate. McCoy comes hard after two thrusts like that, spilling over the sheets and wailing into the fabric. Spock doesn't stop until McCoy is shaking with the force of it, emptied completely and boneless against the bed. 

Drawing back the vulcan has the audacity to wipe his face and give McCoy a smug, self-satisfied look. 

“One word...” McCoy huffs, breathlessly, “And you are sleeping... on the couch.” 

Spock doesn't say anything but unfortunately McCoy can read his expression just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: http://akaiba.tumblr.com/


End file.
